In June Dana and Tonya get married, which is sort of frightening. Even more frightening is the fact that the wedding is corporate-sponsored and slated to be the cover story for both Bride Magazine and The Advocate. Its this big scary country club affair. Even Shane admits its disturbing, and she is usually the embodiment of the phrase if you cant say anything nice… Shane and Alice are in the wedding, and Im invited, so one day we go shopping. Tonya has informed them that they can buy dresses and expense them to corporate. We go to Beverly Hills, figuring that if this wedding is going to be about cash, then we might as well take advantage of corporate, whatever that is. Alice is in a moderate to major lather about the wedding, ostensibly about the corporate nature of it, but really because of her feelings for Dana. Shane and I look at each other, wondering oh *****, what do we do? This is so fucked up! Alice rants, stalking up and down the aisles of the store. The snooty Rodeo Drive salespeople stare at us, uncertain if Alice is riffraff or a testy VIP that needs to be managed gently. They take one look at Shane and I, and decide that were all definitely riffraff. I think I did her once, Shane says of one of the women at the counter, Im not sure which one. Well, she is in the L.A. Metro area, and female, I smile at Shane as I finger the lace of a black dress, so odds are… Shut up. Alice continues to rant, oblivious to our discussion and the staring of the sales staff. She is plowing through every dress on the rack, sliding hangers violently, not seeing a single dress. I mean, guys, who the ***** gets *Monistat* to sponsor their wedding? What kind of message is that? Were here; were *****; weve got feminine itching? I mean, what the ***** *****? You have to tell her how you feel, Al. Shane says, utterly serious. She *knows* how I feel, Shane! Does she? I ask. Because from what you told me the most you guys have acknowledged explicitly is mutual attraction, and I have a feeling this runs deeper for both of you. Alice just sighs and rolls her eyes. She mutters something about pots and kettles, but I dont hear enough of it to comment. She walks around to the other side of the rack and begins mauling her way through the dresses on that side. Darah is right, Shane says. Whatever you feel for her, you owe it to yourself and to her to own up to it. Then if she marries Tonya, at least you know that youve tried and you dont regret it for the rest of your life. Alice stops sliding hangers and stares at us, irate. Okay, Yoda. Im taking relationship advice from Shane, what is this world ***** coming to? You know what, I dont need this *****. And Shane walks out. Ive never seen Shane get pissed like that before. She always takes the others ribbing with gracious calm. I whirl around and face Alice. Nice. What? she snaps. Al, honey, I love you, right, but you need to calm your ***** down. If one of those sales dweebs makes a call to some ***** tabloid about this, you know it will be fucked. You and any shot you have at Dana will be fucked. And Tonya will be…I dunno, all scary and postal. So just calm down, go to your happy place, whatever. She nods. Sorry. Im gonna go collect Shane. I cant afford anything in here and I dont think they exactly carry Shanes rock star look, so come outside when youre done and well get some lunch. She nods again. There are tears in her eyes. I give her a quick hug, kiss her cheek, then walk out. Shane is at the corner, pacing and smoking. Hey. Yoda! She turns around and looks at me. Then she grins, and graces me with her middle finger. I take the cigarette from her and toss it into the street. “Thank you.” We walk together back toward the shop, and sit on a bench nearby. You okay? Fine. Just… have no clue what Im gonna wear. You know… I grin evilly, staring at the Betsey Johnson store down the street. You can expense it from corporate, so theoretically you could afford to go in there and get something custom made. No. No way. All her clothes are these little froufrou dresses. Nuh-huh. I shake my head. She does a lot of rock stars. Steven Tyler. Prince. Lenny Kravitz. And even I would ***** him. She grins. Well, old Ton-Ton did say that the skys the limit… So, Alice comes out of the store, and apologizes to Shane for calling her Yoda, and we have lunch. Then we go to Betsey Johnson. It turns out that Shane has done color for Betsey herself, and although Betsey is currently at the New York store, they give Shane VIP attention. It doesnt hurt, Im sure, that the Celebrity Wedding will be televised. Its fun to sit there and watch the sales people play around with Shane, dressing her in different outrageous outfits. Its sort of like playing Barbies, Al whispers. Or is it Pimp Daddy Ken? That was very politically incorrect of you. Yeah, well. We watch as the sales girl brings out a bright red cherry-print slinky top. Thats cool, Shane says, but even though this is a ***** wedding its kinda country-clubbish. So I was thinking of something like a suit, a solid color, maybe a little textured top underneath? We watch as, on the fly, one of the guys sketches a tailored suit over a low-cut camisole, with lots of funky necklaces piled up. That’s awesome. I love it, Shane says. She smiles and I smile too, pleased at seeing her happy. Alice also finds her dress at Betsey Johnson, a very elegant backless pale yellow number. We all wish we could be there when Tonya sees the bill. . Alice does tell Dana how she feels. And Dana tells Al that she has feelings for her too. But she marries Tonya anyway. So, in August, Jenny and I sit together in one of the ballrooms at a sprawling country club. Tonya stands at the altar like a man, or a parentless creature spawned from the brow of some corporate god. Her dress is white and frothy, her hair in an elaborate updo. The music changes and everyone looks toward the back. First come two little girls – Tonyas nieces. They are ***** adorable in little white dresses, with crowns of flowers in their hair, and they strew the aisle with violet flower petals. Then the rest of the strange bridal procession comes in, two by two, in random order. The first pair is some guy I dont know with Tina. Then come Shane and Alice. Shane looks fabulous, in a chocolate brown silk pants-suit and ***** low cut lace top. Shes got this complicated funky necklace that comes down as far as the top. With smoky eyes, and brownish lipstick, she is a goddess. Mostly, I watch Alice, afraid that she is going to lose it. So far, so good. Her steps are slow and steady but Shane seems to have trouble doing that stilted slow bridal walk thing. The whole time I feel hemmed in, as if I am on display too. They have three cameramen shooting film. I want to lean over and tell Jenny how fucked this is, but I cant, because of the cameras. Then everyone stands, and Dana walks in, radiant in white, flanked by her parents. She is beautiful, and I smile, even though I know she is making a huge mistake. Everyone watches her, oohs and ahhs, and with the camera crew going, it feels as if were extras in a movie, not friends of the bride and bride. I watch Alice, who keeps her eyes down low until just before Dana arrives at the altar, then looks up. She sees Dana looking gorgeous in white, her hair curled softly around her face, and the pain on her face is palpable. I wince for her. Alice closes her eyes for a second, and when she opens them, there are tears on her face. . Shane and I spend the entire night consoling Alice in the posh anteroom of an out-of the way upstairs bathroom. She completely loses it. Shane goes to get some water for her and I pull her close. I dont understand how she can do it, D. She told me she cared about me. How can she just ignore that? I dont know, honey I say, running my fingers through her soft hair. In reality I know perfectly well. I think Dana is unsure of her identity and Tonya has steamrolled her, pushing, molding, coercing her. And Dana, confusing that with love, has let her. But I cant say this. Instead I say I think Dana is unsure about a lot of things. She only recently came out, and I think shes vulnerable to someone with a personality as dominant as Tonyas. Maybe it makes her feel safe, I dont know.” Im sorry. Im a damn basket case. You have reason to be, sweetie. I pull her to me, and she rests her head on my shoulder. We sit like that for a long time. Its been a long time since Ive been so physically companionable with a woman, with no sexual tension. I rub her back softly, then say you have a great big heart, and you have a lot of love to give. And someday youre gonna meet someone who takes your breath away, and she, or he is going to love you til the end of the world. I feel a presence, and realize that Shane has been standing in the doorway, watching us. She holds a goblet of ice water. I dont know why, but something makes me think that she heard what I said. There is a strange, open, pensive look in her eyes. Shane sits down on the other side of Alice and offers her the water. Alice drinks, then wipes her tears away. Shane puts her hand on Als back. Sorry, guys. Hey. Dont be sorry, Shane soothes. You did what you could. You owned up to your feelings, you know? I know, she whispers. Ive never seen Alice like this. Her tears havent stopped for a good forty minutes. It just hurts so ***** much.” I want to console Al, hold her. I lift my hand to put it on her back, but instead my hand touches Shanes. Shane and I look at each other. That second is charged for some reason, and I feel the wide-eyed brown-green of her gaze, powerful and somehow winsome. And I dont know why. I lift my hand, and instead stroke Als hair. We get Al to the point where shes not crying and then do a number on her with makeup. In the end, she looks as if shed not cried a tear. We take her back downstairs in time to see Dana and Tonya cut their cake. I have a few drinks. While Shane and I were ministering to Alice we missed most of dinner and the alcohol goes right to my head. It helps to tune the cameramen out, though, and when some friend of Tonyas asks me to dance, I agree. She is drunker than I am, and as we do that sort of bizarre shuffling ***** dance with no one leading, I can feel her hands on my waist and it turns me on. Im wearing a red dress that leaves most of my back bare, and as we dance I see Shane out on the verandah, smoking. She seems melancholy tonight, the look I saw earlier in her eyes when our hands touched seems to be mirrored on her face. I look away, and succumb to the womans conversation, feeling suddenly edgy and troubled, and unsure why. Whats your name, I ask the woman Im dancing with. Leslie. Im Darah. Can I cut in? a voice from behind me says. Deep, sweet honey Mississippi-mud, hot fudge voice. Its Shane, and shes got a grin on her face. Leslie and I look at each other, then at Shane, who looks at each of us. I hate formal events. They heighten the arbitrary nature of gender roles. I smile, suddenly feeling evilly mischievous, and say Which one of us would you like to dance with, Shane? You, she says, eyes on mine, and I feel shivers up and down my spine, warming in my chest and face; Im stupidly thrilled that she picked me. I feel bad for Leslie, and smile and pat her hair. Thanks, I say sweetly, then take Shane in my arms. We fit. I press my right hand to her left, and the press of our palms feels intimate and sweet. Our fingers clasp, but I dont think about who is leading or following, we just move together, and it feels right. Als doing better. she says in my ear. I can smell the product she uses in her hair. It is unusually floral and sweet for her, with undertones of citrus. Yeah. Im really worried about her. Im really worried about Dana. Me too. When she realizes what Tonya is about, its gonna kill her. And I just hope theres a prenup. Yeah. The music changes, and we shift, pull apart a little. In my heels I am a few inches taller than her. I look down at her necklace. Its very cool, shreds of lace and brown ribbon and iridescent beads. So, this is the part when you tell me I was a hundred percent right about Betsey Johnson. The band begins to play a slow k.d. Lang song, and she laughs and says You were a hundred percent right about Betsey Johnson. I tighten my grip on her, feel the silk of her suit, and the warmth of her skin underneath. Thank you. I think I deserve a finders fee. Yeah, right. Sure. What do you want? A haircut. Sure. Ill do your hair any time. I was kidding. And by the way, you look incredible tonight. She smiles sensually. So do you. She traces the low scooped neckline of my dress with her finger, causing my nipples to harden. Youre dangerous in red. She pulls me close and I feel her hand on my back, stroking with a very clear intent. My moan gets lost in the music. I thread my fingers through the soft hair at the nape of her neck. Im not the dangerous one, I whisper. Im just a nice girl from New York. But thank you. No, thank you,” she mumbles. “Your ***** is amazing in that dress. I smile, feeling suddenly demure because I see that one of the cameramen watching us closely. He is behind Shane, so she is unaware that he is filming us when she holds my head in her hand and passionately kisses me. My lips part in surprise under her hot mouth and I feel her tongue and the velvety touch of her fingers on my jaw, and Ive completely forgotten about the cameras. Then the camera guy pans around and Shane sees him. Oh, *****. No! No way! Dont you dare show that! She yells. Before the guy can respond, she says I am so ***** out, and is gone. I stand there high and dry, every cell in my body aching for her to get her skinny ***** back here. I turn to the camera guy. Nice! I say. And I was gonna get laid tonight. The guy looks sort of flabbergasted. I am pissed at Shane. I sit down next to Alice. What the ***** was that? Im glad to see that shes gotten back some of her vim and vigor. That, was a really sweet and hot moment, ruined. And Shane being an ***** about it. Im pissed at Shane. I mean it. My irritation at her tendency to give and then take away is surfacing right now, and the way I felt with her seeking me out, choosing me, holding me in her arms before she freaked out felt better than it should, and now I feel worse, more than I want to admit to myself. But I get a sense of revenge, or at least amusing Karma, when Ton-Ton forces us all to stand to catch the ***** bouquets, including Shane, who she bodily drags onto the dance floor, so roughly that Shane practically trips on her short heels. Shane stands there, rolling her eyes, so she doesnt see it coming when one of the bouquets sails straight toward her, and bounces off her head. I laugh my ***** off. She gives me this wounded look, and I laugh more. The *****? she asks. Its what you get for acting like a *****, sweetie. Its not my fault that camera guy was a douchebag. I pat her cheek and smile, then walk away, knowing that shes standing there watching me walk away, probably pissing and hissing like a wet cat. And if my ***** happens to sway a little bit more under the red dress, well, thats just coincidence. . After my amusement wears off Im feeling hot and unresolved, frustrated in a way I cant define, restless. I walk out the French doors and onto a stone terrace, and see that the stairs meander all the way down to the ground. I follow their path, sultry breezes on my bare neck, away from the lights and camera crews. The last remnant of the sun is pink between the leaves of trees. I follow the path that leads along the edge of the wooded area, and stop when it forks. I choose, perhaps unwisely, the path which veers to the left, and cross a small stone bridge over a stream. The landscaping is brilliant, the stream filling a pool that reflects the last wild hurrah of the sunset. This place is exquisite. Im a little dumbfounded by the beauty of it. I stand there for a long while, hypnotized by the trickling water and rustling of the trees. Im melancholy as I think about Dana and Tonya. I want you. I startle violently, but before I can turn I feel her behind me, pressing soft kisses to my neck. Each of her hands is holding one of mine to the railing, and I can’t move. I moan, instantly turned on. Hmm. I want you too. Oh, Shane, you are so ***** hot, I think. Youre gonna kill me. Her hand slips slowly on the skin of my back, creeps around my side and underneath my dress. She teases and flickers her fingers on my nipples. Oh, I say. It is the day before my period and this means that Im positively in heat, ***** swollen, easily excited. Shane bites my earlobe gently, then flickers her tongue. I am leaning so far back on my heels that I could fall, but I dont care. I rest my head on her shoulder, and she catches me. You look so damn hot tonight, she whispers roughly in my ear, so ***** hot in that dress, with your hair up, and your lickable neck on display. She has never talked like this before and each word sends fire racing through me wildly. I pull her hands from my dress and turn around. Pull her to me and kiss her roughly. Oh, so sweet. She tastes like gin and juniper berries. Opens her mouth and kisses me passionately, and I feel heat rising in me so fast and hot, like flashover. I dig my hand into the soft mess of her hair; she strokes the bare furrow of my spine. I feel like I could fall, but the rail of the bridge is there, holding me, rough stone on my bare back. There is something unusually sweet in her kisses tonight, and I wonder if its my imagination. I stand there, eyes closed, holding her, and we kiss and kiss and kiss. Finally I cant take any more. Not here, I say, and I grab her by the hand and stalk down the path. Its almost completely dark now, but the cameras are still running inside and I dont want to be anywhere near them when I touch her next. She follows my lead, which is quite unusual. We walk down a winding path, and up a flight of stone stairs surrounded by some kind of lush flower. There is a willow to the right, weeping down majestically to the earth, and more stairs ahead. I pull her under the willow. She ducks to avoid a hanging branch. She follows me inside the hushed space under the tree, and we are surrounded by the long branches. For a second we stare at each other in the waning light. Then I pull her to me violently and crush my lips against hers, so hard I can feel our teeth and bone underneath, and she makes a surprised guttural sound that satisfies me to the core. ***** me, I whisper, lips grazing the warm skin of her cheek, and she fumbles to remove my dress. Her silk jacket crumples to the ground, and she is standing there in that lace top that Ive been dying to touch all night. I run my fingers over it, see that the lining isnt quite opaque, and even in the faintest light of day I can make out her pink nipples. Hypnotized, I trace them for a moment, then the spell breaks and I crush her fragile body to me, feeling the bones under her skin and muscle. She kisses me, and she seems winded for some reason, unable to catch her breath. I peel away the brown lace from her *****, unclasp the necklace and let it fall on top of her jacket, and leave her standing there in the shadows, naked from the waist up. Her flawless skin seems to glow in the final light of the day. We take all our clothes off, shoes too, and couple passionately in the grass under the willow. I press her down to the earth, run my hands all over her body, roll her over with a strong hand on one hip, then kiss and lick her neck, trace the line of her spine with my tongue. She only tolerates so much, though. She flips me over and makes quick work of me, bringing me to a rough ***** with her fingers. Messy pieces of her hair fall into her face, and she watches me through them intently as I bite my lip and shiver and come. As always, I am left feeling satiated but unsettled, fired up but langorous, and confused as *****. We lie there, inches apart but not touching on the dewy grass, catching our breath as the music from inside wafts out and the space under the willow darkens.